


A Second Spring (A timestamp for The Doors of Time)

by felisblanco



Series: The Doors of Time [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-20
Updated: 2010-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:58:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A timestamp for <a href="http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/856417.html">The Doors of Time</a> set roughly three years after Part 1. Making friends at Juilliard. <i> Jensen looks at her face, eyes watching him with honest concern and open friendliness. All he has to do is laugh and she will let it go, he can tell. It seems so simple. Except nothing about Jensen’s life is simple. This isn’t just a one-time thing, this will keep on happening. This and more. And he doesn’t have Chris to look after him, not here.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Second Spring (A timestamp for The Doors of Time)

**Author's Note:**

> When I was writing about Jensen starting at Juilliard it was supposed to include various glimpses from that whole new life: meeting teachers, finding friends, settling in. But as often happens with my writing it got too long and complicated so finally I cut it down to just one short story, [Teachers of the Heart](http://archiveofourown.org/works/237408), and filed the rest away for later. This would be later. Well, one short later. We’ll see about the rest.  
> Unbeta’d and posted after imbibing two glasses of wine (with a very fine steak!) so feel free to point out whatever I might have fucked up.

_Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower._  
(Albert Camus)

 

Jensen stands awkward in the doorway for a moment before walking in and picking a random seat, trying not to think too hard if maybe he should be sitting further back or in front or… He shakes his head and pulls a notebook from his bag, placing it on the small desk in front of him. Finds his pen, the blue one, and lays it carefully down beside the notebook. Takes a deep breath. Lets it out slowly.

There.

It’s strange being back at school, especially considering it’s been over a decade since he last attended one. What’s even stranger though is the fact that no one is looking at him funny. He gets some curious glances but no more than anyone else.

“So what’s your name?” a voice says, jerking him out of his thoughts. He turns his head to find a girl with black hair and brown eyes, smiling at him.

For a moment Jensen just stares at her, surprised. He had sort of assumed that he’d be ignored, just like he’d been the last time he attended school over ten years ago.

“Uhm, Jensen,” he says. “Jensen Ackles.” He thinks maybe he should stick out his hand but he’s not sure if people his age do that.

“Hi, Jensen Jensen Ackles,” she says with a grin, “I’m Deborah. Deborah Black.”

“Nice to meet you, Deborah Deborah Black,” Jensen says, trying to match her joke and feels all light in his seat when she laughs. She smells like strawberries, fresh and hopeful. It reminds him of his sister and his chest tightens.

“Oh, just call me Deb,” Deb says, waving her hand theatrically. “So, Jensen, where are you from?”

He hesitates. The most accurate answer would be that he doesn’t know but it’s one thing being weird, it’s another coming across as just plain simple.

“Actually I live here in New York,” is what he decides on. “With Chris. Except now, now I’m at the dorm. And he’s not. So… it’s just me, I guess.” He taps his pen on the small desk in front of him, feeling increasingly awkward.

Deb raises her eyebrows in question. “Chris? Your... friend?”

She does a little motion with her hand, wagging it like a boat. Jensen’s not sure what that’s supposed to mean but then again Chris has all kinds of expressions and gestures he doesn’t quite get so instead of asking he just smiles and nods. “Yeah. My best friend.” He pauses, thinking of Jared, and clarifies, “Here.”

She smiles back and says, “Lucky you. Everyone I know is back in Iowa.”

Her tone is light and her smile never falters but the purple mist that follows her wraps itself around her shoulders, like a shawl sheltering her from the cold of loneliness. So Jensen shakes his head and tells her, “Not anymore.”

She smiles at that, her gratitude warming the air. As they wait for class to start she tells him about her two-day bus drive to get there and he finds out she lives in an apartment two doors down from his. “Sharing a room with a soprano singer,” she tells him with a grimace and is surprised when he admits he got a room to himself.

“But this is your first year, right?” she asks confused. “I thought those were just for older students.” She sounds almost jealous and Jensen looks at her surprised, wondering how she can possible envy him. After sleeping almost every night in Chris’s bed or Chris in his, having to sleep alone again is terrifying.

“They made an exception,” he says, uncomfortable. “I’m kind of... weird.”

He waits for her open gaze to shut down, for her face to slip into the same look of discomfort and confusion he’d gotten used to before he went Inside. Instead Deb just gives him a soft smile and says, “You’ll fit right in here at Juilliard then.”

He laughs, startled, and she grins right back at him. Oh.

He’s so used to being the weird one in a sea of normal that it never even occurred to him that other people might feel the same. But her words make him realize that this place, this school, it’s made up of the odd ones. The ones that probably never fit into any group, no matter what school they came from. There they had been, like him, the weird ones. But here... here they are united in their uniqueness. Here it’s okay to be different. Even more, it’s expected.

Someone clears their throat and they look up to find a teacher standing in front of the class, giving them an impatient stare. Everyone turns to look who he’s glaring at and Jensen can feel his face heating. His pen rolls away from his fingers and he only just manages to halt it before it goes over the edge. As it rolls back to his waiting hand he glances over at Deb but she’s got her eyes on their teacher, her cheeks flushed slightly pink.

The man starts talking but Jensen doesn’t hear him. He is watching Deb, the way her dark hair curls behind her ears and how her teeth dig into her lower lip when she concentrates. He’s known her for less than ten minutes and he’s already learning things about her, one detail at a time. This is what Chris was talking about, telling him that he shouldn’t close himself off but try and get to know other people, to make friends. Jensen hadn’t been too optimistic but here he is, on his first day, and already someone is talking to him, is interested in getting to know him. The fearful confused looks and uncomfortable silences that he’d been expecting haven’t surfaced. Not yet anyway.

Suddenly all Jensen can think about is Jared, what it would be like to have Jared here sitting beside him, sharing the awkwardness and excitement. Jared elbowing him playfully, shoulders hunched up as he tries to stifle his laughter. Jared filling out the narrow seat, shoulders so wide they intrude on Jensen’s space as well. Jensen wouldn’t mind. He wouldn’t, not at all. Their knees would touch, bumping and nudging, and when no one was looking Jensen would draw pictures in Jared’s notebook. Flowers that bloom and spread across the page and stick-figures that prance back and forth in all their skinny importance. Then when school was over they’d walk to the park, hands clasped tight to be sure they never lose each other again. Jared is going to love the park when he gets here, Jensen just knows it. They’ll jostle and chase each other across the lawns and finally collapse under one of the tall oak trees, laughing as they try to catch their breath. And Jensen will show Jared all he has learned in the year since he’s been out. He’ll dig his fingers into the soft soil and extract plants and flowers from all over the world, pulling them through the earth like threads through fabric. Jared is sixteen now– No, seventeen! His birthday was only a week ago, how could Jensen forget? Seventeen and so tall already. His hand big and strong as he lays it on top of Jensen’s, long fingers sliding in between his to feel the grass tickle his fingertips. And he’ll gaze at Jensen, smiling, and then he’ll lean in, all stars and moonshine in his eyes–

“Jensen? Hey, Jensen.”

Jensen blinks. There’s no park, no flowers, no warm sun. No Jared. Just a half-empty classroom that smells of stress and excitement. Jensen lets out a shaky breath and swallows his disappointment. One day. It will happen. Hopefully soon.

“Class is over,” Deb says. She’s watching him like she’s not sure whether to be amused or concerned. “You alright?”

Jensen nods, not meeting her eyes. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Fall asleep with your eyes open?” she jokes.

Jensen can feel his face heating. “I told you I was weird,” he mumbles and gathers his things as he stands up to leave.

“Hey,” she says quickly, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s cool. So you zoned out, so what? It was pretty boring stuff anyway.”

Jensen looks at her face, eyes watching him with honest concern and open friendliness. All he has to do is laugh and she will let it go, he can tell. It seems so simple. Except nothing about Jensen’s life is simple. This isn’t just a one-time thing, this will keep on happening. This and more. And he doesn’t have Chris to look after him, not here.

“I zone out a lot,” he says, not smiling back when she grins because she has to understand it’s not a joke, not to him. “I’m... There’s some stuff you should probably know about me if we’re gonna be...” He stops, feeling awkward all of a sudden. He’s known her for less than an hour, what is he doing?

“Friends?” she offers and grins when he smiles hesitantly. “Okay. Shoot.”

Jensen bites his lip. “It’s... complicated,” he says. “I’m not sure...”

She instantly backs off. “Hey, it’s okay,” she says easily. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Jensen shakes his head. “I think maybe I should. In case I need...” She raises her eyebrows and he gives her a small smile. “A friend,” he finishes. “You know.”

She rolls her eyes and he laughs at his own awkwardness. “I’m sorry. I’m not really good at this. We could have coffee maybe, after school?”

Her smile is wide and bright, showing off a row of pearly white teeth. “I’d like that,” she says and after they’ve exchanged phone numbers she tips up on her toes and kisses his cheek before walking away.

Jensen stares after her startled, hand coming up to touch the tingling ghostmark of her lips. It’s been so many years since his mother kissed him he’d forgotten how soft a woman’s lips are. He wonders how different it will be, being kissed by Jared. His lips will be bigger because his mouth is wider but they’re probably not as soft. Most guys have thinner lips than girls. Not Jensen. Jensen’s lips are full and soft when he presses them against his palm. Maybe Jared will feel it’s like kissing a girl. Hopefully he won’t mind. Maybe he’ll even prefer it. Jensen can’t help wondering if Jared has kissed many girls by now. Somehow that’s easier to think about than Jared kissing guys. He really doesn’t like the idea of Jared kissing other guys.

He’s so deep in thought he walks straight into someone’s path and almost gets knocked over in the progress. After the guy helps him pick up his books and introduces himself – “Dylan, with a ‘y’,” he says with a grin like he’s used to obscure versions of his name even if Jensen can’t think of any other way to spell it – they get to talking and by the end of that class he has another phone number memorized on his phone and plans to meet up at the end of the day. He walks down the halls, hand clutching his phone, and he can’t stop smiling. It’s the best day he’s had in over three years.

\-----

There’s a cafeteria in the building but Brian says the coffee there is beyond bad and Sarah tells Jensen there’s this coffeehouse close to the park that’s got the best waffles. Jensen meets Deb in the hallway outside his room and dumps his stuff there before joining her for the walk over. Thankfully the day is warm and sunny because Jensen can’t stop smiling. He feels _amazing_. He actually made it. He’s a student at frigging Juilliard! If his mom was here he’d laugh in her face. ‘See,’ he’d say, ‘you were wrong! You were wrong, mom. You were wrong about me.’

Deb keeps giving him amused glances, her eyes warm and curious. He must seem strange to her. All the little things he does, like looking up at the cloudless sky before he dares to laugh out loud, or smiling at birds and butterflies he’s not sure are really there. And he talks funny, he knows that. More now than usual because he’s excited and a little nervous and his brain doesn’t seem to keep up with his mouth. Before he can stop himself he’s talking about Jared, how he can’t wait for Jared to get here.

“He’s the one who helped me get in. The first time. His mother helped but it was his idea. I never even considered that I could go anywhere. It was all him. And now I’m here.” Jensen laughs happily. “He’s going to be so pleased.”

“You haven’t told him yet?” she asks, surprised.

Jensen’s smile falters a little. “I will. When he finds me.”

She looks confused but just as she opens her mouth, presumably to ask what he means, they arrive at the coffeehouse and Jensen pushes the door open, escaping her curiosity.

“You made it,” Brian says with a grin, getting up from a booth in the corner. His face falls when he sees Deb come up behind Jensen. “Oh. I thought we were…”

“Jensen?” a voice says to his right and there’s Sarah, looking at the three of them confused. Just then Dylan comes out from the bathroom, his greeting smile fading when he sees the crowd. “Dude, what’s going on?”

Jensen blinks. “What?”

“Jensen,” Deb says, suppressed laughter evident in her gentle voice, “tell me you didn’t ask four people out on the same date?”

“Uhm…” Jensen licks his lips. Everyone is staring at him. “I asked you out on a date?”

“You’re joking, right?” Brian says and starts laughing. “You are frigging _weird_ , man.”

“Hey!” Sarah says, glaring at him. “Rude much?”

“It’s okay,” Jensen hurries to say before things get out of hand. He feels so stupid. “It’s my fault. I didn’t realize… I wasn’t…” His fingers start tapping against his thighs, faster and faster. “I should go,” he mumbles and abruptly turns to the door but Deb grabs him by the arm, stopping him.

“Sweetie, relax. We all came here to get to know you so we might as well get to know each other. Let’s just have coffee and talk. That was the plan, right? I mean, that was _your_ plan?” She offers him an encouraging smile.

He hesitates then nods and turns back, biting his lip. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…”

“Just sit down, man,” Dylan tells him with a grin. “It’s no big deal.”

Jensen slides into the booth, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans while the others settle around the table. They order drinks before falling into chitchat, sharing names and tidbits about themselves as well as gossip about the teachers.

Jensen keeps quiet. He stares down at his hands where they rest upon the table. The nail of his right index finger is bitten rugged from where he’d been gnawing on it last night. He taps it against the surface, building a rhythm, then adds another finger and another until the music starts flowing in his head, smooth and calming. He forgets where he is for a while until someone lays a hand over his, stopping him.

“Your coffee is here,” Deb says and gives him a smile as she slides it over. “Wouldn’t want you to spill it.”

He gives her a quick smile in thanks and unwraps the sugar cubes, putting both of them in his coffee and stirring it nervously. Everyone has gone quiet and when he glances up he can see them watching him, clearly waiting for whatever it is he brought them here to tell them. For a moment it feels like being back Inside, with the doctors watching him like he’s an intriguing experiment gone wrong. The memory twists his stomach and he grabs the cup with both hands, gulping down the burning hot liquid.

“Dude,” Brian says in alarm. “You’re gonna burn your throat.”

It _is_ burning but it’s not like it’s permanent, or even more than just a moment’s discomfort, but Jensen stops anyway, putting the cup down on its saucer with a clatter. “Sorry. I’m nervous.” His voice is slightly hoarse from the heat. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Drink coffee?” Sarah asks, smiling a little uneasy.

His lips twitch at the corner. “Talk to people,” he says. “I don’t know how to talk to people. I’m not used to it.” When they just stare at him he drops his eyes and says, “I have this thing. It’s complicated. This, being here, it’s the first time I’ve been on my own. And I’m not sure I can do it. I think… I think I might need a little help.”

He glances up and is met with four pairs of eyes, staring at him. He can feel their emotions hovering over the table like small clouds. Discomfort and curiosity, what feels like pity and what is a rather obvious desire to get the hell out of there. He wishes he knew who was feeling what.

“It’s okay,” he says, “if you want to leave. I don’t mind.”

Brian’s eyes flicker away for a moment but then his curiosity clearly gets the better of him and he sits back with a small shrug. “Shoot,” he says with fake ease.

Jensen takes a deep breath, holding it in for a moment before letting it slowly out. “I have this thing called narcolepsy,” he starts.

\---------

When Chris calls him that night Jensen has to listen to him laugh for five minutes straight after he tells him about his day.

“Only you, man,” Chris says once he gets his breath back. “Only you could manage to accidentally ask four people out on the same date.”

“Shut up,” Jensen mumbles, his cheeks burning. “I was trying to make friends. Like you told me to.”

Chris chuckles but when he speaks his voice is soft with fondness. “And did you?”

Jensen thinks about Deb and Dylan and Sarah and Brian and the girl in the coffeehouse who told him to please come back soon and the teachers that smiled at him and the woman in the reception who waved at him, calling out, “I haven’t forgotten!” with a wink and a wide smile.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, good for you,” Chris says but it feels a little off, like burnt coffee.

“You’re still my best friend,” Jensen tells him then adds, “in New York.”

Chris snorts. “Heaven forbid I fall lower than second place,” he says sarcastically and Jensen can’t help feeling guilty.

“It’s not like that,” he sighs. “You _are_ my best friend. It’s just…”

“Jared is your bestest friend,” Chris supplies, voice a little tight. “I know.”

There’s silence for a while and then Chris clears his throat and says lightly, “So, any cute girls?”

Jensen rolls his eyes but he can’t help smiling. “I’m not gonna set you up with my new friends, Chris. Some of them aren’t even legal yet!”

“That never stopped you,” Chris points out and Jensen zaps the phone, smirking when Chris yelps in his ear.

“So I told them what we agreed on,” Jensen says casually when Chris’s curses start to die down.

Something in his voice must have given him away because Chris goes quiet before saying, “And?”

Jensen swallows. “And I feel like shit, lying to them.” He pulls the covers tighter around him. The bed feels too big and empty. He really wishes Chris were there. “They were so… understanding. And nice. And I just… I feel like a fucking fake.”

“Hey…”

He stares up at the ceiling and sighs. “I hate it. It’s like stepping back inside the goddamn closet. Not _that_ closet,” he adds because he can just imagine the snarky comeback on the tip of Chris’s tongue.

“Better than them thinking you’re insane,” Chris says instead, his voice light.

Jensen closes his eyes. “About that…”

Chris curses. “Jensen!”

“I know, I know. It just… slipped out.”

He can practically hear Chris roll his eyes. “How the hell does, ‘I was in a mental institution’ just slip out?”

“It just did. It’s okay, I told them it was because of the narcolepsy and a bad reaction to drugs. Misdiagnosis of depression. It happens.”

Chris sighs. “I just don’t want anyone to give you any hassle over it, man.”

“They won’t.”

He’s pretty sure. Even if Brian didn’t quite meet his eyes the whole time and was very quick to get up once the others showed signs of leaving. But maybe it was the whole not-date thing that he was upset about, Jensen’s not sure. It’s been a year and he’s still having trouble reading people properly, especially strangers. Maybe it’s one of those things he won’t get back. Like the visions. He hasn’t had a single vision since he got out. He ignores the small voice in the back of his head that whispers that maybe that’s because there’s nothing to see anymore. That whatever him and Jared were supposed to be and have is gone now. That Jared is lost and they won’t ever find each other again. That once Chris gets tired of him he’ll be on his own with no one and nothing to look forward to.

“Jensen? Hey, you there? Jenny?”

Jensen breathes out, his breath crystal white. There’s a dark cloud covering the ceiling above him and Minna is glaring at him from the end of the bed, her fur thick against the cold. “Yeah,” he mumbles and lays his palm against the wall, watching as the ice melts away from the spreading heat. “Sorry.”

Chris stays silent for a moment before saying quietly, “You know we can always postpone until next year. It’s no problem. If you feel it’s too much. It’s only been a year and–”

“Dude!” Jensen cuts in irritated when he figures out what the hell Chris is talking about. “Are you kidding me? I’m not postponing this! I’ve been waiting for this for three fucking years!”

“Well, excuse me for fucking caring!” Chris bites back. “Goddamn dramaqueen.”

“ _I’m_ the dramaqueen? You’re the one PMS-ing over nothing! I’m fine, okay? I don’t need you–”

He cuts himself off, squeezing his eyes shut. Shit. He hates these goddamn mood swings he just can’t seem able to control.

“I don’t need you worrying about me,” he says much quieter. “Okay? I want to do this. I _can_ do this.” He pinches the bridge of his nose when Chris doesn’t say anything. “I need _you_ to believe I can do this, man. Because if you don’t... If you don’t, how am I supposed to?”

“Now who’s PMS-ing?” Chris mutters.

Jensen swallows. “Don’t. I’m being serious. Coming here... It’s my dream come true, alright? But it’s also fucking terrifying. I haven’t slept on my own since.... since I met you. And fuck, I haven’t been in school for over a decade, man. I have no idea how to do this. I don’t even know how to talk to people! I keep saying stupid stuff and they stare at me and–”

“Okay, okay,” Chris cuts in. “Calm down. I believe in you. That’s what you want to hear? I believe that you can do this. There. I said it. Now stop being such a damn girl or I’ll come over there and paint your room pink, princess. I mean it.”

Jensen breathes out. “You’re not just saying that?” he asks quietly. “Not about the room, the other thing?”

“I’m not gonna clap my hands even if you are a frigging fairy,” Chris huffs. “Either you take my word for it or not.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Jensen’s mouth. “You could clap just once. For me.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

They both chuckle, the tension gone for now. “Okay, promise me one thing,” Chris says after a while of comfortable silence. “Promise you’ll tell me if you start going off track more than usual. So we can deal with it,” he continues when Jensen starts to protest. “Figure something out. Together. I can’t read your mind, man, especially not when we’re not in the same place. So if there’s something going on with you, you need to tell me.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jensen sighs. “I think it’s just because everything’s happening, you know. It’s a lot to deal with. Once I settle down it will be easier.”

“Yeah.”

They fall quiet again. Jensen stares up at the ceiling, his eyelids getting heavier. “I _can_ do this, right?” he asks quietly. “Chris?”

There’s silence for a moment. Then Chris claps his hands on the other end of the line before muttering an awkward, “Go to sleep, Tinkerbell,” and hanging up.

Jensen laughs and falls asleep to a thousand stars twinkling on the ceiling.

fin


End file.
